


It's All Logic and Heroics (Until You're Sharing a Bed)

by The_Capricious_One



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Capricious_One/pseuds/The_Capricious_One
Summary: The Enterprise crew arrives at an alien planet to give much needed medical aide. Unfortunately, these aliens have a rigid social hierarchy which places a high value on bonded individuals. They won't give the Enterprise the time of day unless they can find a bonded trio to talk to them.Fortunately, Archer, Trip, and T'Pol are very reasonable individuals.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to this month's trek rarepair swap (https://trek-rarepair-swap.tumblr.com/)

A knock came on Archer’s door fifteen minutes before he was due to start his shift.

“Enter,” he said.

Hoshi came in, looking frazzled. “Our next mission might be a bit more complicated than we anticipated.”

“Of course it will be,” Archer said good naturedly. He opened up the file on his computer. _URGENT: MEDICAL AIDE REQUESTED IN RELEN SYSTEM._ “What’s the complication?”

“The good news is that T’Pol has reviewed the data and agrees that our biology is too different from the Karias to be at risk from the pathogen they’re dealing with. The bad news is that we’re going to have some horrible culture shock.”

“I’m listening.”

“Apparently the Karias are eusocial. Their society is set up in a rigid set of social hierarchies, and they’ve got an unbelievable number of protocols for how to interact with others based on your position and theirs.”

“We can handle a little memorization. I’m sure we can avoid stepping on their toes,” Archer said.

Hoshi shook her head. “For the most part, sure. But there’s one that we can’t get around: their culture elevates bonded members way above everyone else. For every few hundred individuals, there are three bonded individuals leading them. Like royalty, I guess. I’ve looked at the Karias who are assigned to greet us, and it looks like they’re a bonded trio that are pretty high up in the hierarchy. It looks like they’re important enough that they won’t even talk to unbonded people outside their followers.”

“Can we arrange for a go between?” Archer asked.

“I looked into that. In order to conform to their rules, we’d need _five_ middlemen for them to talk to us.”

Archer tapped his dataPADD on his desk. Five intermediaries would not only waste an enormous amount of time—time that the Karias couldn’t afford to lose, with the epidemic only gaining in strength—but also risk having crucial information lost in a game of telephone.

“Any chance that we can ask them to bend the rules for us?” he asked.

“No, sir. The Vulcans attempted to make contact three decades ago. _Their_ diplomats called the Karias unyielding.”

Archer laughed. “Alright, Hoshi. I’ll see if I can’t come up with something.”

 

~~~~

 

The next day, with ailing Relen system just in sensor range, the senior staff’s breakfast was more businesslike than usual.

“Status report,” Archer said as soon as T’Pol and Trip were both seated.

“I have confirmed that the planet should pose no adverse effects to the crewmen’s health, so long as they wear basic filtration masks. Life there is silicon based, and the physiology of humans, Vulcans, Denobulans, and the Karias are too disparate to allow for the spread of any pathogens. I see no reason why we cannot comply with the Karias’s request for humans to handle sampling and handling of infectious body fluids. I recommend use of gloves and light decontamination gear, if only to avoid coming into contact with unknown and possibly dangerous secondary metabolites. I have drawn up a schedule for around-the-clock sampling and processing of samples,” T’Pol said, handing Archer a dataPADD for approval.

Archer skimmed it and gave it his thumbprint. “Trip?”

“With Hoshi’s help I’ve been in contact with the supply line. They’ve got eight factories at key population centers around globe on standby for when they find a cure. Once we’ve found something, they can gear up in six or seven hours and have the first batch distributed to 15% of the population within the day—or more, if we can’t get this thing solved soon. A full quarter of their population is already ill, and despite quarantine the numbers are rising. They haven’t found a successful way to decontaminate yet,” Trip said grimly.

“I’m not sure how quick we’ll be, given our projected communications issues,” Archer said, frustrated. “Maybe we can send the raw data and our conclusions to them electronically to avoid the middlemen.”

Trip opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then nodded and looked down at his hashbrowns.

“Spit it out, Trip,” Archer said.

Trip looked discomfited. “Well, it seems to me that it would cut through a lot of the trouble if we… pretended to have a, what did Hoshi call ‘em? A bonded trio? Then they would talk to us direct.”

Archer considered it. “If we did, it would work best if the trio was you, me, and T’Pol. They expect the trio to be in charge,” he pointed out. “I have no objections. It could save a lot of lives.”

“I’m willing, sir,” Trip said immediately. They both turned to T’Pol. She looked enormously uncomfortable.

“We don’t have to do it. We can find another way,” Archer said at once.

“This course of action increases our odds of successful collaboration with the Karias by 39.2%, and will likely allow us to find the cure up to 71.9% faster. I am merely concerned that I will not be able to play my role satisfactorily. I am not skilled at deception, and it is likely that the Karias will react very negatively to discovering that we have impersonated the highest level of their social echelon,” T’Pol said.

“I have faith in you,” Archer said with a fond smile.

“Look at it this way: we can keep working until they figure it out, and they’ll still be ahead of what they could have done alone,” Trip argued.

T’Pol inclined her head. “I am willing to make the attempt.”

 

~~~

 

When the Karias delegation came on board, Archer can’t help but smile. The Karias are beautiful and so, so clearly alien, and this was his favorite part of traveling among the stars: the endless discovery, and these moments of first contact, when everything is new like freshly fallen snow. The Karias were more wide than tall, standing about a meter in height on six splayed legs. Their segmented, shimmering carapaces are vibrantly colored. One was the deep royal blue of a peacock, one a rich purple, and the other a forest green which shimmered other colors under the light like an oil slick. They raised their arms and lowered their eyestalks in greeting. Archer bowed his head and raised his own arms in turn.

“I am Jonathan Archer, captain of this ship, and these are my partners, T’Pol the science officer and Trip, head of engineering.” His words were chosen carefully. After poring over their language, Hoshi had assured him that “partners” will translate to a word which means “those-who-share-all-my-endeavors”, carrying the implication of being bonded without being an outright lie.

As one the Karias splayed their legs out further, lowering themselves closer to the ground: a sign of relief and comfort. The flashcards of Karias body language that Archer drilled himself on hadn’t prepared him for how alarming it would be to see the three of them moving in perfect unison.

“We are relieved,” the royal blue one says. “For the good of all-the-children we were willing to speak with unbonded workers, but we were concerned that we would be banished from our own children in the days-after the completion of our work. We would miss them terribly.”

Archer, Trip, and T’Pol exchanged loaded glances. “Crisis avoided. Now, let’s get down to it,” Archer said, and the delegates readily agreed. The green one began to ask T’Pol detailed questions, and in short order they found themselves in the science labs. Archer trailed after, though there wasn’t obviously anything that he could do. All he managed to make out was that the green Karias was filling T’Pol in on the most recent developments of the epidemic.

As the day wore on, the flow of questions and hypotheses never slowed, but Archer noticed that the Karias had once again begun to draw themselves up tall in discomfort. Their eyestalks kept flicking between Trip and Archer before focusing once more on the viewscreens. He halted the flow of scientific babble to ask what was wrong.

“Have you-as-three been fighting?” the purple one asked tentatively. “You are so—distant.”

Archer realized then how often the Karias reached out to one another, if only to touch the others in passing. They were doing so even now, the blue holding the green one’s hand as it gesticulated with the other towards the viewscreen, the purple touching its back leg to the blue’s as it tapped out orders to the medical teams downside.

“Not at all,” Archer said. He wrapped an arm around Trip’s shoulder, and Trip improvised, pressing a small kiss at the base of his neck. Archer felt a flush rising to his face and it took a few moments to compose himself. T’Pol was too far away to put an arm around as he had done for Trip, but he reached out his hand.  She tentatively responded in kind, and he clasped her hand. Her skin was very warm. Archer carefully ignored how good it felt. Uncharacteristically, he found himself tense. Was the gig up?

“We are not accustomed to individualistic societies and we have misread the situation. We did not mean to insult the strength of your bond,” the blue one said carefully. It pronounced the word “individualistic” one syllable at a time, like a foreign word—which, Archer supposed, it was.

“No harm done,” Trip said cheerfully, and the tension went out of the Karias. They turned back to the viewscreen, animatedly discussing the preliminary results of the Enterprise’s gathered samples. Archer let out a quiet sigh of relief and disentangled himself from Trip and T’Pol. He smiled at Trip and received a grin in return. On his other side, T’Pol snatched her hand back as soon as he released it, flexing her fingers. Her face was flushed a deep green, and she would not meet his eyes.

Throughout the day, Archer found himself working more to keep up the charade of the relationship than acting as captain. Karias viewed all members of a partnership as equals, and expected T’Pol and Trip to order workers downside based on their findings. Archer took them aside at the first opportunity and told them to pretend that they were acting captains, rather than glancing at him before issuing orders. He trusted them to make the right decisions.

And so Archer found himself with little else to do but place a hand on Trip’s shoulder as he discussed available means of factory retooling and production lines with the purple one, and ruffle his hair occasionally. T’Pol’s work with the green one was likewise too technical for him to follow, but he found himself at a loss when it came to touching her. She still had not looked at him after the handholding incident. He settled for standing close by, but only occasionally; even that made her tense up.

It was only at 2330, staring at the ceiling of his quarters after a long day of being utterly useless, that he recalled that Vulcan hands were so sensitive that even _shaking_ them was too intimate. He swore and got dressed.

Within ten minutes he was in front of T’Pol’s quarters, knocking on her door. When she answered it, he said in a rush, “I wanted to apologize for my behavior today. I know it doesn’t excuse it, but I—I wasn’t thinking. I’ll fully support you when you file for a sexual harassment suit. I’m so sorry.”

T’Pol blinked. “I had no intention of filing a suit.”

“You should. You deserve to feel safe,” Archer insisted. “We can do it however you want. When this crisis is over, we could go to Vulcan, so that you can sign on a different ship. Or—no, we could go to Earth, and get me court martialed. It doesn’t seem right that you have to transfer for my mistakes—“

“Captain. I have not been made to feel harassed or unsafe. Although I was—surprised—when you took my hand, I recognize that you were not conscious of my biology, and were merely attempting to ameliorate relations with the Karias, and the ploy worked admirably.” She looked down then, her eyes fixing on his hands. She stared at them intently, and if she wasn’t a Vulcan, Archer might have mistaken her expression for longing.

“I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but say again.

“There is nothing to apologize for. Would you like to come in? Trip is already here. We were discussing the Karias situation.”

“I’m not sure what help I’d be,” he said.

“Your comment earlier this evening questioning the advisability of using glass syringes was invaluable,” T’Pol said, and stood aside to let him in.

Trip was sitting at a low table, poring over yet another diagram. In the center of the table sat a fragrant pot of Tarkalean tea, still letting out wisps of steam. Without looking up from his PADD, Trip got up and fetched another teacup and set it on the table, patting the cushion next to him in an invitation for Archer to sit. T’Pol poured him a cup, and who was he to ignore such a warm invitation?

It was 0300 when he looked up again, bleary eyed. He groaned and stretched. “I’m so tired I’m not sure I’ll make it back to my quarters before I fall asleep,” he joked.

“You both may stay here tonight,” T’Pol offered. Archer and Trip both stared at her with open astonishment.

“It would be prudent to avoid arousing the Karias’s suspicion. They believe that we are bonded, and thus expect that we will share quarters,” she pointed out.

“I’ll move my toothbrush in the morning. If that’s alright with you, that is,” Trip said to T’Pol. T’Pol acquiesced. Just like that, Trip stripped out of his shirt and fell facedown into bed. Archer hesitated, looking at T’Pol. She paid him no mind, preparing for bed.

Well. Archer had brought this on himself, proposing this ridiculous sham. He climbed into bed, carefully not touching any of Trip. T’Pol thoughtfully adjusted the thermostat down to a relatively cool 30°C, and grabbed a blanket out of her trunk. She lay down just as carefully as Archer had, facing away from him. She bundled herself in the blanket with a shiver. The bunk wasn’t really big enough for three. T’Pol was up against the edge, almost falling off. Archer moved in to give her space, until his arm was pressed against Trip’s. Trip was already asleep, and Archer envied him.  Tired as he was, sleep did not come easily.

Archer awoke disoriented. In the night Trip had thrown an arm over Archer’s chest and wedged a thigh underneath Archer’s. Archer found that he had been no more proper—one arm had found its way under Trip’s waist, and T’Pol was now using his bicep as a pillow. That arm was thoroughly asleep.

 T’Pol had turned to face him in the night, and uncurled somewhat from the tight position in which she had fallen asleep. The sight of her hair—fallen out of place, gently framing her face—was too intimate. He fought the urge to stroke it back into place. He turned the other way, only to be greeted by Trip’s surprisingly muscular back, and fought back the urge to trace its contours.

The awkward awareness of his two attractive, underdressed crewmen was interrupted by an insistent chiming of the door. Trip groaned and held Archer tighter, but T’Pol awoke and answered the door.

“When will you-as-three be ready to begin work?” Archer heard, and he extricated himself from Trip and padded to the door.

“At 0700 hours,” T’Pol said.

The blue Karias brightened at the sight of Archer. “We are pleased to see you. Yesterday we found that you—“ the blue Karias lowered its voice, “did not _smell_ of each other, if you will pardon us for saying so.”

Archer was close enough to see the faint wrinkle of T’Pol’s nose at that. The smell of two human men after a night of sweaty sleep isn’t exactly a treat for a human nose, and Archer pitied her enhanced sense of smell.

“We require time to prepare for the day. We will meet you in the laboratory at 0700 hours,” T’Pol said firmly. “If there’s anything else?”

The Karias left, and then it was just the three of them, staring at each other awkwardly. Archer struggled to keep his eyes away from where the hem of T’Pol’s shirt had ridden up, and the way that Trip’s pants now sat so low on his hips did little for his composure, either. He thought of the plague spreading below them, and desperately prayed that his body wouldn’t betray him.

“It might be a good idea to continue sharing quarters?” he said without thinking.

T’Pol and Trip nodded eagerly, as if they had been waiting for someone to say so.

“Could I borrow your shower? We’ve only got half an hour to get ready,” Trip asked.

“Gladly,” T’Pol said with a tiny wrinkle of her nose, and Trip laughed.

 

~~~~

 

The first breakthrough came eight days later, when they finally discovered an adequate decontamination procedure. With the Karias doctors now able to visit patients and analyze samples of their own, the work sped up tremendously. Within days the antidote prototype went into distribution, and the exhausted Enterprise crew returned to their ship. They were obliged to stay for another nine days, to attend festivities held in their honor.

Trip grumbled over the attention, always preferring a simple, “good job, Trip,” to any lavish praise.

“It’s for them, not for us,” Archer told him, as masses of Karias around them sang and danced, a riot of color and sound.

Trip rolled his eyes, but he grew quiet at the end of the first day, when the Karias took them to the mass grave to pay their respects. The trench stretched on for kilometers. Each Karias who came carefully added a handful of dirt to the burial.

“We will plant trees to watch over them, and a forest will grow in their honor,” a coral colored Karias told them. It was rubbing its hands together, over and over—sadness. “There are not enough trees,” it said quietly, and its partners pressed in close.

Trip looked down the length of the trench, eyes shining. Archer put a hand on his shoulder, and Trip leaned into his touch. When they left, Archer tried to hold on to the jubilation of the Karias at surviving the epidemic. But he can’t help but remember the terrible length of the trench, and the wide expanse of stars felt a little colder.

 

~~~~

 

A few days later, Trip sighed and said, more to his breakfast than to T’Pol or Archer, “My bunk seems mighty empty these days.”

 Archer was surprised to see T’Pol nod sympathetically. He leaned back, heart in his throat, and said, “If your bunk’s big, just imagine my empty bed.”

T’Pol and Trip looked at one another. “Y’know, I’ve been hearing some truly alarming noises from the pipes in your room. I should probably swing by at around 2200 to check them out,” Trip said.

“I concur, and further speculate that you may need the second opinion of a science officer. I will join you,” T’Pol said.

Archer let himself smile a bit, and Trip grinned at him. He leaned over the table and kissed Archer. Archer’s hand went to the nape of Trip’s neck at once, and if not for the knowledge that they are on duty and Chef could walk in at any time, he could easily have lost himself in the warmth of Trip’s mouth. “Later,” he murmured, breaking the kiss against his will. Trip groaned in protest but agreed, “Later.”

Flustered, Trip stood up. “I’ll—get to work,” he said, as if realizing that he just kissed his CO _while on duty._ He hesitated, then swooped down to kiss T’Pol’s cheek. She grabbed him before he could fully pull away, and kissed him gently. He walked out with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.

Then the door closed, and it was just him and T’Pol. He looked at her, unsure what to do. She extended her hand to him, index and middle finger extended. He copied her motion, and she pressed her fingers into his, her eyes softening into a Vulcan smile. Daringly, he rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand, and her lips parted. A faint green flush appeared on her cheeks, and her dark eyes promised him, _later._

He could get used to this.


End file.
